31

31
folding my brother-in-laws faded khakis and boxer briefs
kissing children not my own and picking up their toys
it certainly isn’t what I expected
there will be no midnight hurrah
no glamour
no glitz

that era has ended

so what if I can’t remember last years party
at least I had good shoes
pictures don’t lie
and flannel pajamas can’t compare
can they?

31
and here I stand with nothing
not one thing to call my own
victorious over my past maybe
but that still leaves me naked
on a pile of ashes

waiting to trade them in for beauty

and oh, how the mighty fall
when the mirror is more haunting than even before
less sure now than I was then
at least a junkie knows where she belongs

31
bought at the price of blood perhaps
but a lemon from the word go
used goods
a discarded toy
remarked upon and forgotten